Damn right.
I was a mall rat pretty early on in life. For an 11-year-old loaner there was really no more satisfying way to spend an afternoon than at Signal Hills Mall on Robert St. in West St. Paul trying out pens in St. Paul Book & Stationery and then heading over to Great American Music to spend as much time as I had left to flip through LPs. The K’s were what I’d hit first, of course, just in case there were any new KISS albums or imports, and then I’d start at A and work my way through. The best was when my mom and brother started taking violin lessons at Henly’s Music down the street and I’d have pert near 2 hours all by myself to walk up to Signal Hills and do my thang.
In my teenage years Signal Hills began to decline into what I refer to as “Mall Cancer” (fun fact: That happens to be the title of yet another song about malls I’ve written.) It became a desolate, hollow, depressing retail wasteland; a mere shell of what it once was. I started going to Maplewood Mall instead which was perfect at the time – the dirtbag metalheads and rockers seemed to hang out there so I was with my people.
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When the Mall of America opened in 1992 I was instantly in love. I didn’t get out to Bloomington much in those days so never really saw it as it was being built. Shortly after the grand opening I had to go check it out for myself. As I approached and saw it from afar I couldn’t believe how massive it was… and when I first stepped inside it was pretty much like this:
For a mall-hungry loaner like myself it didn’t get much better. I can’t even begin to estimate how many hours I spent there over the first 10 or so years, especially in the winters. Whenever I got ants in my pants, even if I didn’t need or want to buy anything I’d drive to the MOA, walk multiple laps around each and every level, and then crash in the massive food court area where I’d chow down on whatever fast food offering I was craving and hang out for a few hours reading or drawing. Sometimes I’d even call in sick to work and hang at the mall all day without even telling anyone. It was interesting to watch the clientele transition throughout the day: Senior citizen walking groups in the early morning. Younger parents walking babies late morning-lunch. Teenagers would then start to trickle in around the 3-4PM hour.
I saw my first real-life KISS autographs at the MOA the first year which blew my 19-year-0ld mind. It was in a Hot Topic-esque store – or maybe it was Hot Topic, I’m not sure if that was a thing back then. The autographs were on the poster that came with the Dynasty album, it was signed by all 4 original members. My GOODNESS, did I ever want that. I think they were selling it for some ridiculous amount like $400 which was way out of my budget for such a thing. I would stand there and gaze at it like Ralphie did the Red Ryder bee-bee gun in the shop window in A Christmas Story. Eventually it disappeared, so some lucky sumbitch bought it. I was pretty disappointed but managed to do okay in the autograph department a couple of years later when I met them at the mall’s Sam Goody signing and of course meeting Ace a few years ago and several times since.
I digress. After about 10 years the MOA and I went our separate ways. A lot of it had to do with the internet coming along, but my desire to go there and hang out started dissolving even before that as I watched most of the mom-n-pop stores folding and being replaced by chain stores. Oh well, it was good while they lasted. I paid it a visit when I went back to MN a few years ago and it just isn’t the same.
All of the fireworks and stuff going off in our neighborhood this past July 4th week stirred up a bombastic bass line and chord progression in my head which became the bookends to this new ICED INK tune. It’s a tribute to my glory days of being a loaner of the Mall of America. Here’s to you, you big old dummy.
ps – Special thanks to Iced Ink bass master Gregg Mitchell for loaning me his sweet G&L bass to record with rather than my beat up old Squier. I forgot what it’s like to play a bass that’s not only easy to play, but stays in tune!
